


A Warden's Sacrifice

by Usagibean



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drama, F/M, Feels, Hurt, Miscarriage, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usagibean/pseuds/Usagibean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darkspawn blood has a stronger toll on their life than they thought it would have. King Alistair and Queen Illuminae have been attempting to start a family, but it is never fruitful. While they are able to conceive, they never manage to see their children born. This is a short scene (just over 3k wordcount) about one such occasion. Trigger warning for Miscarriage. Recommended for mature audiences for miscarriage content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warden's Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for Miscarriage
> 
> Illuminae is pronounced as Il-loo-min-ay . The last two letters are pronounced as AY as in the word BAY.

Chief, a large and scarred mabari, whined impatiently at the door. Lady Theirin had shut him out, as per usual, of the bath room. There was something painful in his yelps as he scratched at the bottom of the door. Normally it was just persistent whining, but its tone was drastically different.

“Go away Chief,” a sobbed voice came from behind the door. The mabari was now more determined than ever to force his way inside as he scratched at the door. Chief howled a few times and scratched again.

“I SAID GO AWAY!” a large resounding 'thwack' hit the door, scaring the mabari away from it. If mabari's had tails, his would have tucked between his legs. Defeated for the moment, Chief's cropped ears pinned back and his eyes lowered. Mabari's were intelligent dogs, capable of reading human emotion. They were also capable of learning far more commands than one would expect them too. Chief was no exception. Raised from the finest line of war hounds that the Couslands could afford. They spared no expense when their daughter, Illuminae, had asked for her own pup.

Chief slowly padded away, down the halls of the castle. He knew something was wrong, and had it in his mind to find someone to follow him back to his Lady. Every servant he stopped and barked at, paid no heed or would only pat him softly on the head. To the guards, to the kitchen, to the servant's quarters, to the hand maidens and to the few nobles lingering in the gardens. No one heeded his words like his Lady would. At times, one usually found that only the mabari's chosen owners would understand them.

“Welcome back your Highness,” a guard's voice grasped the attention of the searching mabari. A panic filled yelp escaped the mutt's maw as he charged off in the direction it came from. Alistair was often busy on business, leaving his Queen and companions often alone at the castle. Much to his disdain of course. As the tired king turned the corner of the hallway, Chief tackled him. A loud resounding complaint forced from Alistair's mouth as he attempted to push the hound off of him.

“Must you do this every time?!” Chief plastered the Warden-King in incessant licks and whines filled Alistair's ears. Chief was usually the first to greet him upon his returns to the castle, although this time it was different. The mabari whined continuously as he jumped off of the blonde and danced around him.

“What is with you? You act as if darkspawn have made their way into the larder!” Alistair paused, “Wait... have they?” Chief looked at him, lowered his head and growled. Alistair chuckled, “Yes, I get it, no darkspawn.” Climbing to his feet, Alistair was curious as to why the hound was so being so noisy. Chief spun in a circle and barked a few more times before turning on his heels and walking away in a hurry. Alistair shook his head and sighed as he watched the mutt walk away. Chief stopped and turned to the king again and bayed once more. Lifting his head, the former warden lifted an eye brow.

“You want me to follow you?” Chief let out a sharp yap in response. A yes. Alistair made his way to the hound, but, yet as soon as he got close, Chief bolted away.

“I swear if this is an elaborate ruse for me to come see a trophy rat you murdered...” He grumbled as he picked up the pace to follow the running dog. “Giant rats are gross, perhaps not as bad as-” Another yap interrupted his words. “Yes I know, tangents.”

“Well it's not like I mind a distraction from boring duties.”

It was soon that the King realized the mabari was leading him into the royal quarters. Recognizing this due to the personal guard standing around with nothing to do. The personal guard he had assigned his wife while he was out of town. Fear had insisted it upon him, for when she was alone he couldn't protect her. Many nightmares had plagued him about situations where if she was alone, she would die away from his reach. So a decision to station her with her own armored guard that could travel with her was not only in his own interest.

For the Warden-Queen was also the Commander of the Grey in Fereldan, technical Arlessa of Amaranthine, and the daughter of the late Teryn Bryce Cousland. She had been gone for a while, whisking away the wardens to greatness. She always came back though, consigned to ruling the lands of Amaranthine from afar. With Nathanial Howe's and the resident wardens' help, it made things easier. Often Amaranthine could now run itself, which left time for the two of them to be together.

Worry began to plague his mind as he followed Chief's barking and wound through the finely decorated halls. Turning the last corner he saw Illuminae's prized hound planted in front of a door, scratching at it. The king knew it was the bath. He also knew that she would keep her hound out of the bath because she often needed to do business without the dog licking her feet. She also felt judged when her mabari would watch, insistent on her belief that the dog fully knew what was happening.

The sobbing that filled Alistair's ears between whines from the mabari told a different story. Picking up his feet, he rushed to the door, thinking nothing of shoving the dog aside. Knocking frantically, he spoke to her, “My love, is that you in there?”

The sobbing ceased, Chief barked a few more times.

“Alistair?” Illuminae's voice choked beyond the door.

“Who else would it be? The ghost of Calenhad? Of course it's me,” Alistair leaned his forehead against the wood of the door. Her sobbing picked up again and he frowned.

“Will you tell me what's wrong? If not, would you be kind enough to let me in?” His voice wavered softly. The woman that was his wife, was nothing short of his whole world. When she cried, his world stopped moving, he wanted nothing more than to keep her smiling.

“Please, 'Minae, light of my life, let me in.” Alistair paused and took a deep breath in. Chief whined again, drawing the King's attention. The honey in his brown eyes faded as he saw the hound sniffing at red liquid on the floor. A sparse trail of it made its way to the door from down the hallway. Maker, was that blood? Alistair turned his attention back to the door once more, his voice panicked.

“Are you hurt? What happened?! Please let me in!” He pounded on the locked door, his queen refusing to answer him. Her sobbing only continued, choking and coughing on tears it seemed.

“Maker, so help me, I will break down this door if I have to.” Shouting wasn't exactly the thing he wanted to do at that moment, but he couldn't help it. His concern had taken over, his fears coming to light. Had she injured herself or had someone else had a hand in it? He was gone this last time for only two weeks, had someone slipped in past her guards? He couldn't take it.

“This wasn't the occasion on which I wanted to break down a door again, but I'll gladly do it. If you cannot respond to me, at least hear me out when I say stay away from the door.” Chief barked at him and Alistair frowned as he backed away from the door. He planted one of his heels into the ground and lifted his other leg. Landing his first kick just below the latch, the door splintered. Another good hefty kick, with his body leaning into it, broke the latch away from the frame and the door flung open.

As his foot landed back safely onto the ground, orbs of bitter chocolate shining with tears met his own. Those eyes used to shine in a way that kindled to mind his first Conscription ale, as it shone in the light amidst Ostagar. His wife, Illuminae, lay just next to the bath. Only in her night gown, as her long chestnut wavy hair clung to her body covered in sweat and tears. Disheveled was no where close to how she looked. She had a bloody bed sheet wrapped around her and clutched to her body. Her face reddened beyond the worst of Orlesian rouge.

His feet moved on their own as he dizzily made his way to her. He felt his knees give way and make contact with the floor beneath him. Their contact, as he touched her face, only made her cry harder. Chief whined again, laying just beyond the door frame, watching. The couple made no notice of him. Alistair pressed his forehead to hers as he reached to grasp at the sheet crumpled around her. He didn't mind blood usually, he was desensitized by war and battle wounds. The soaked sheet was still wet, crimson and cold, stained his hand as he pulled it from her shivering body.

The linen revealed a darker mess below. Again it felt as if his breath left his lungs. He had seen her like this before, sadly, too many times. He wished that he'd never, not even once, to have to see her like this. Her night gown drenched in scarlet, below her waist.

“I'm sorry,” were the only words that Lady Theirin breathed out before she started to sob again. His clean hand reached to cusp the back of her neck, pulling her to him. Embracing her, he felt his breath returning, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Staring at the wall behind his queen, he spoke to the mabari.

“Chief, fetch her handmaiden and the healer.” A voice one would not expect from a man who was king, came from his lips. Tender, despaired, and solid. The mutt obliged with a soft whine and scampered off.

“I'm so sorry,” Illuminae whimpered as more tears streamed from her eyes and soaked his shirt. Alistair sighed as he pulled some hair away from her face.

“Andraste...” he paused, “Please stop apologizing, it's not your fault.”  
“I'm sorry because I didn't tell you this time,” she pressed her face further into his shoulder, muffling her voice. Burying his face into her hair, she smelled of a mix of sweat and her favorite perfume. Breathing her in, Alistair centered himself, wrapping both arms around her. Telling him would have made no difference, it only would have raised his hopes for their future to a high pedestal. However, he wouldn't have left her alone had he known.

Worrying was pointless at this moment. All that mattered was that her heart was breaking all over again, and so was his. The king lifted his hand again, to stroke the back of her head.

“I understand why you didn't,” he paused, trying to find the right words to say. It made him anxious, he never knew what words to say in terrible situations. He often was able to toss it aside with a joke or two, but it wasn't the time for that.

“I've been counting the days, I've done everything I can,” Lady Theirin choked and paused. Alistair sighed in response before she continued, “I wish...” She stopped again. Alistair was her rock, the one steady thing in her life that she could count on. The only one who stayed with her and Chief in the end. Even in moments like this, when grief made her life crumble, he was there to pick up the pieces.

“I wish Morrigan had never left. She would know what to-” Alistair's arms interupted her and brought her closer. They tightened around her in an attempt to comfort her. She coughed, finding it hard to breathe through her nose now. Tears welled up again and she softly shoved her face into his should once more.

“For all that we have done, for all the things we have accomplished...” She halted her muffled voice and cleared her swollen throat.

“We found Andraste's resting place... and we slayed an Archdemon.” Alistair exhaled, his heart beat so loudly in his chest that it competed with his wife's voice for his attention. It was true, they had found the final resting place for Andraste and they had slain an Archdemon. They did these things together, much to his initial disbelief.

The moment that Illuminae struck the final blow on that wretched beast, all the weight on their heavy shoulders should have lifted. Life should have been clearer now, as they ruled together. It was starting to become quite the opposite, and this was the latest steep curve in the mountain road they traveled upon.

The Chantry's words rang through Illuminae's mind. The Maker smiles sadly upon his Grey Wardens, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs. If the Maker still smiled upon them, then they wouldn't experience what they have had to in the last three years. “The Maker is cruel...” She sighed into Alistair's shoulder. Her voice bitter now, as her mind sought to replace her sadness with anger. Although, it was short, as she soon found herself just wanting to give up.

Alistair had adapted a stern face with taut lips, as his eyes welled with tears begging for freedom. The last two times this happened, she was angry, considerably so. Her body spoke otherwise today, clinging to him, as the blood she had shed grew colder. She was tired, and it only made it worse. He didn't want to stop trying, for her sake. She was so adamant about it all, she'd break down for a few weeks and then want to get back to it. He wondered how many times they could go through the same pain, over and over again. He wondered when she'd say-

“I think... we should...” Lady Theirin choked back once more, “...we should... should stop trying...” The King drew in a sharp breathe through his nose, his body tensed and his lips pulled tighter. His hands moved to her back and he embraced her as tightly as he could without harming her. Slamming his eyes shut, the reservoir of tears flowed freely now. Silent weeping, nothing less for a man who was king. Was her strong will finally sundered into pieces? The woman who prodded him into becoming the man he was now? A woman who reveled in taking on dragons with mere daggers, and happily challenged a stoic qunari into talking more freely.

“Please don't say things like that 'Minae...” He kissed the top of her head, refusing to let her go off wishing things he knew she'd regret.

“I just want us to be happy,” she coughed and wiped away tears from her rouged cheeks. It was ridiculous, to his ears, that they already weren't. A child would have no change on what they already were. He pressed his lips to her head once more, biting back his tears before he could speak again.

“My darling,” he exhaled, “there is no way I could be happier than with you at my side. It is all I ever wished for.” Words ceased as she continued to cry, her tears wetting his tunic.

“I'd rather have lost my life at the claws of the Archdemon, than to hear you give up.” He faltered, blinking away a few more tears, “Remember, I'm supposed to be the one who gives up on everything. I didn't even want to be a king remember?” Although she smiled faintly as she pressed her head against his shoulder, he did not see it.

“Even now, I'm happier with you in my life. I would not trade it for anything,” He lifted her head and placed his lips gently on her forehead. It was now that Illuminae saw droplets dripping from his chin, her grief blinding his own from her sight. A hand moved to his chin, wiping away the tears that had collected there. She had realized, it pained him to see her like this, as much as it pained her to see him cry.

Illuminae cusped his face in her hand, her fingers gently tracing over his stubble. Her eyes softened as her brow pulled, a soft face of concern and apology. He leaned his head into her hand as he swept a few more stray hairs behind her ear.

“I'm sorry Alistair...” She spoke softly as his fingers wiped away the last of her tears.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he paused and smirked, “except perhaps marrying me.” Illuminae pulled her lips tight before finally succumbing into a smile.

“There it is,” Alistair smiled warmly, a bit proud, “the smile that makes every bleak day brighter than the sun...” He pressed his forehead to hers and wrapped his arms around her a slight grin on his face. They stared longingly into each others eyes, only silence around them. Illuminae sighed, her eyes saying “sorry” once more. Alistair shook his and only gave her a look of “it's okay” followed by the look he often gave her when he would fall all over again for her.

Their moment broke as they heard barking down the hallways followed by the distinctive voices of the healer and the handmaiden. Collectively they sighed as Alistair suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her as he rose up.

“Let's get you cleaned up so you can get some rest,” He kicked aside the bloody sheet and then helped her into the bath. While it was empty, there would soon be water as the Healer and Handmaiden would bring it.

“Get some bath water!” Alistair shouted and a timid voice from down the hallway obliged with a “Yes sir”.

“I won't leave your side tonight,” the king stared at his queen, a strong determination in his eyes. She smiled faintly at him, her chapped cheeks dimpling softly.

“I won't leave you alone again, ever,” he smiled at her and brushed her hair with his hand.

“I know,” Illuminae smiled warmly and leaned into his hand.


End file.
